


Play with Fire

by Lint



Series: Damnation [1]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-08 17:18:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17390450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lint/pseuds/Lint
Summary: The majority of the population believe the false God's son once walked the Earth. Why is it so unfathomable to think the Dark Lord's daughter wouldn't be capable of the same?





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

Sabrina adjusts the strap on her shoulder, bag bouncing against her hip as she walks through the woods, taking deep lung fulls of crisp autumn air. It's a lovely afternoon, sun just beginning to dip below the tree line, as she makes her way back home.

 

The breeze shifts through the branches just above, bringing about a smile on her face, as she can sense all things in the forest both super and natural. Leaves crunch beneath her boots, scarring off a rabbit just a few feet ahead, as the hairs along her arms and the back of her neck suddenly rise. Feeling their presence before they make themselves known, Sabrina stops dead in her tracks to greet them.

 

“Hello Prudence,” she calls, as the girl appears before her. “Agatha.” Turning her head to the last. “Dorcas.”

 

“Hello Sabrina,” they return in unison.

 

It's difficult to remember, in all the time she's known them, when they didn't just appear out of thin air like ghosts. One of the first tricks learned as a born witch.

 

“It's a lovely afternoon,” she states, calling back her thoughts just moments ago. “Isn't it, ladies? To what do I owe this visit?”

 

Prudence steps forward like she's going for an embrace, but veers off at the last moment, trailed by her Sisters. They circle her like sharks in water, Sabrina amused but cautious as to what game they may be playing, half tempted to start turning with them.

 

“Tell us,” Prudence begins. “Is it true?”

 

“Is it true?” echoes Agatha.

 

“Is it true?” repeats Dorcas.

 

All three halt their movement, with Prudence directly in front of Sabrina.

 

“Is what true?” she questions.

 

“That you're joining us at the Academy of course,” Prudence answers. “Finally shedding this mortal coil and becoming a true witch.”

 

Sabrina knows, the friendship between them has always balanced precariously on a knife's edge, and her statement is meant to cut. That Prudence and her Sisters, the rest of the coven as well, have never understood just why she would want to embrace her mortal side at all. Or further still, how it was even allowed to happen.

 

“Always have been a true witch,” Sabrina retorts. “Two halves still make a whole. No matter how different those halves may be.”

 

Prudence just scrunches up her nose instead of carrying on further.

 

“And yes,” Sabrina carries on. “The rumors have not been exaggerated. I will be joining you soon.”

 

“How soon?” Agatha and Dorcas inquire in chorus.

 

“The day after my Dark Baptism.”

 

The Sisters all clasp their hands together, looking very pleased with the answer, as each one steps closer to embrace her. Sabrina sighs, rolling her eyes, but returning the affection fondly.

 

/\

 

Everyone in the coven is watching with eager eyes, as Sabrina's hand poised above the books of the beast, just seconds away from signing her name. It's merely a formality, given her lineage, but something still feels wrong in the act. The pomp and circumstance. This isn't how she hoped it would go.

 

Like so many before her.

 

Just another signature. Another name among thousands.

 

She's known who she is, or rather who her Aunts believe her to be, since turning ten years old and listening in on a conversation she was never meant to hear. Waking up at midnight, the ever blessed hour, so excited for her birthday she just couldn't sleep any longer. Sneaking out the door of her bedroom, careful not to make any noise to wake Ambrose as well, and shooting down the hall and stairs. Her intent to raid the giant tub of ice cream Aunt Hilda had gotten for the party planned for that evening.

 

The kitchen light being on had halted her progress, pressing against the wall she could hear them talking heatedly in hushed voices.

 

_The majority of the population believe the false God's son once walked the Earth. Why is it so unfathomable to think the Dark Lord's daughter wouldn't be capable of the same?_

 

It was Zelda's voice that made such a statement, and though they hadn't said her name specifically, Sabrina knew deep into her bones they were referring to her. She had no context to elaborate on, and was too stunned to process Hilda's reply. She had always known her Mother and Father died when she was very young. A plane crash the story told. A life lived without either of their presence. Their influence.

 

Tears form in Sabrina's eyes, as the pen just won't make contact with the parchment, those eyes surrounding her feeling like daggers. Suddenly she wishes, like she never had before, for just one of them to be here to witness this event. Her life turning out like it was always meant to.

 

The beast snarls behind Father Blackwood, and Sabrina turns slowly to him, ignoring the calls for her to sign the book. Their eyes meet and she does not blink, time seeming to still around them, the entire coven frozen like a photograph.

 

She has so many questions. She wants so many answers. _Am I? Are you?_ The beast steps closer and she stands her ground, never quivering as it snarls, lifting a cloven hand to her ready to bellow a command that she sign her name.

 

“Hi Daddy,” she manages to say.

 

The beast stops then, flickering in and out of her perception with a flash, before standing upright and gazing down upon her.

 

“Can you,” she starts, gesturing hands around her head. “Maybe take that off? Let me see you?”

 

The beast snorts, breath steaming from its snout, but then complies by removing the goat head completely. The man standing before her is not the Edward Spellman she's seen in pictures. Black hair, full beard, and piercing eyes. No, this one is so beautiful, he could be an angel. Something she realizes is inherently true, and giggles softly to herself at.

 

“My darling Sabrina,” he greets with an unnerving smile.

 

Hands clasp behind her back, as a foot slowly scuffs along the forest floor, suddenly shy with his true presence.

 

“It's my birthday today,” she states softly.

 

That smile of his never wavers.

 

“So it is.”

 

“Can I ask for something?”

 

“Whatever your heart desires.”

 

Sabrina takes a step toward him. Stops. Takes another.

 

“Can I...”

 

One more step.

 

“Can I have a hug?”

 

The Beast, the Fallen Angel, the Dark Lord looks as if that's the last thing he ever expected to hear.

 

Then welcomes her into open arms.

 

/\

 

Sabrina's first day at the Academy proves uneventful.

 

Other than a few cursory stares thrown her way, all witches born into this, curious as to see an actual half breed. She enters the hallowed halls arm in arm with the Weird Sisters, alliances stated from the start, and dines with them during lunch where she meets Nicolas Scratch.

 

A boy with some history regarding the three of them. It takes only a second of casual observation for her to realize this, but of course no one offers up any details. Not that she wants to hear them. Just like she knows it didn't last because he's oddly earnest for a witch, and that could only carry on so long with the conniving tricksters she grew up with.

 

Following them to choir practice, she ends up joining both at Prudence's behest, and Lady Blackwood's insistence upon hearing her sing. They're even assigned to the same dorm. Doesn't take much intuition to realize strings were pulled, or threats made, to make that happen. Sabrina settles into her bed, fourth in line after Dorcas, and falls asleep far easily than she would have anticipated.

 

She's pulled from that bed just a few hours later, blindfolded and told to hush. Bare feet walk awkwardly along a cold floor, guided by the elbows through so many twists and turns, she probably would have no idea where they're taking her even if she could see. This is the Sisters doing, obviously, though no one has said a word since the initial command to keep quiet.

 

Finally, the sound of a door opening turns her head toward it, just before she's pushed across a threshold and that same door is slammed shut. Pulling the blindfold from her face immediately, Sabrina looks around to gather her bearings, though that proves difficult as there seems to be some kind of glamour cast on the room.

 

It appears she's floating across an endless void, though her feet still stand on solid ground, and is alone for all of five minutes before the apparition of a little boy materializes before her.

 

-

 

The door opens hours later and Sabrina springs to her feet, twisting around to meet her captors, fire flashing in her eyes.

 

“Are you harrowing me?” she demands the amused faces of the Sisters. “What happened to orphans sticking together?”

 

Agatha and Dorcas giggle at the statement, but Prudence regards her seriously.

 

“Harrowing you?” she asks. “Whatever are you talking about?”

 

Sabrina's fists clench at her sides.

 

“Pulling me out of bed in the middle of the night! Locking me in an endless void!”

 

The Sisters all exchange a look.

 

“It's your initiation,” Prudence clarifies. “An immersion into the student body.”

 

She waves her arm around the room.

 

“May your psyche survive a night in the unseen.” Her eyes lock with Sabrina's. “The Academy of Unseen Arts. Do you understand?”

 

Sabrina quickly looks around again, that particular metaphor escaping her.

 

“B-but the boy. Warned me.”

 

Prudence's brow furrows.

 

“Boy?”

 

Sabrina looks behind her, where he was just before the Sisters entered.

 

“Quentin?” she calls. “You can come back now.”

 

He appears before everyone, Agatha and Dorcas recoiling at the sight, but Prudence glares at him righteously.

 

“Deceitful little poltergeist,” she spits in his direction, flicking her fingers at him. “Begone!”

 

Quentin disappears with a disconcerting chuckle, leaving Sabrina confused.

 

“Let me guess,” Prudence begins. “He regaled you with some tale of how he was harrowed to death in this very room, and wanted ever so much, your help in conducting his final wish. Namely revenge on those doing the harrowing.”

 

Sabrina stares at the spot where Quentin was.

 

“Maybe,” she concedes.

 

“Be wary of ghosts Sabrina,” Agatha warns. “The Academy is rife with them.”

 

“They want you to do their bidding,” Dorcas chimes in. “And take over your body little by little, should you actually try and help them.”

 

Sabrina looks down at her bare feet, blushing furiously.

 

“Well, I'm embarrassed.”

 

Prudence places her hands upon Sabrina's shoulders.

 

“As you should be,” she chides. “Harrow you. I mean, really.”

 

/\

 

Well, the evenings event certainly didn't go to plan.

 

Sabrina sits in her room, looking on as Prudence tries to process the information received earlier, while her Sisters offer each other silent condolences. Father Blackwood has always treated Prudence as a daughter, something she's been grateful for her entire life, but to discover he actually is? A fact disguised as a double edged sword, cutting into her heart the more she accepts it.

 

Sabrina wants to say something, anything, to ease her mind. That she knows all about having a father who is not really. That she's been lied to her entire life by her Aunts. That it hurts, and always will, in a way you just can't put into words.

 

She tests placing a placating hand on Prudence's back, but is shrugged off quickly.

 

“Don't,” comes cold and harsh.

 

Aunt Hilda's brown butter march-pane cake with brandied currants, was meant to uncover that Father Blackwood lies, in regard to the Dark Lord revealing that he must return to their centuries old traditions with the Feast of Feasts. That the Dark Lord had done no such thing. That Father Blackwood has his own reasons, for sacrificing a witch each year, conveniently in the name of a patron saint of the coven who just happens to be female. That all sacrifices must be Queens and not Kings.

 

Instead, Lady Blackwood's rantings about her own failed plans to name Prudence Queen, became the subject of discussion. That she wanted to be rid of her, because she knew Faustus was her true father, and that she could lay claim to a title she wanted for her own children. Father Blackwood, having eaten his own piece of cake, was in no position to deny it.

 

Sabrina, while not entirely shocked by this revelation, had failed to get her own mission back on track. To save Mildred and future witches from Blackwood's own agenda. That the Dark Lord cared little for their coven's tradition, and welcomed anyone named Queen no better or worse, than any of his other followers.

 

“I'm sorry,” Sabrina offers softly. “This dinner was a disaster.”

 

Agatha and Dorcas turn to her, but Prudence keeps her gaze focused out the window.

 

“You certainly were hellbent on destroying the Feast of Feasts,” she comments. “Would you like to finally share with us your reasons?”

 

Sabrina doesn't reply right away, unsure just how to explain why she knows of Father Blackwood's deception, without exposing herself. That she had conversed with the Dark Lord herself. That she does so quite regularly since her dark baptism.

 

“Don't you find it curious?” she begins carefully. “That he reinstated a tradition that literally punishes only women?”

 

Agatha and Dorcas tilt their heads. Prudence still doesn't move hers.

 

“Yes, I know all about Freya and what she did to keep the coven alive. Except, what exactly does it do for the coven today, to actually sacrifice in her honor? I can't think of any reason, besides culling the amount of strong women in the Church of Night.”

 

Agatha and Dorcas do not offer a response, but Prudence finally turns to her.

 

“What a blasphemous creature you are.”

 

Sabrina shrugs.

 

“My whole existence is blasphemy,” she replies. “Being born of a mortal mother and all.”

 

She rises from her bed, standing before the Sisters.

 

“Feast of Feasts is a lie,” she insists. “Being Queen doesn't get you a golden ticket into the Dark Lord's heart. It just gets you killed. And eaten.”

 

Moving closer to Prudence, Sabrina then kneels on the floor before her.

 

“I am sorry for tonight,” she offers sincerely. “For my part in it. The last thing in the world I want, is to hurt you.”

 

She reaches for Prudence's hands, pleased that she's allowed to hold them.

 

“Do you hate me?”

 

Prudence laughs with no humor.

 

“Hate you?” she repeats. “Foolish girl, I adore you. Even when it vexes me so.”

 

Sabrina's eyes widen as she thinks, not for the first time, what it would feel like to kiss Prudence Night.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

“So how does it work exactly?” Sabrina asks.

 

They're standing among the headstones in the yard, eyes casting back to her body slumped along the bench back on the porch. The Dark Lord choosing projection for his visit, instead of stopping time like he'd done before.

 

“You being my-”

 

He laughs, and it chills her to the core, but wills herself not to flinch.

 

“I inherent a vessel,” he explains. “And that chosen one, makes my offspring possible.”

 

How clinical, she thinks. Then wonders just how many of them are there.

 

“I'm not the first.”

 

He laughs again, though this time she does flinch.

 

“Oh my dear no,” he corrects. “I've had so many children. So many disappointments.”

 

She frowns at that.

 

“Am I-”

 

“How could you be?” he cuts her off. “Disappointment is a result of expectation. I'm afraid only I am culpable for that. Bearing children to do my bidding, as if your mortal bodies were truly capable of carrying it through.”

 

Sabrina trails a finger along the stone.

 

“Then what am I?”

 

He regards her a moment, hand scratching absently at his shoulder as if a wing should be there, whether he's going to tell the truth or formulate a lie she's uncertain.

 

“A happy accident,” he states. “I had no intention of bringing any more of my brood into this world. I had only taken Edward Spellman as a vessel because the man had some truly visionary ideas. It had been nearly a millennium since someone came along with such a fresh look on things. It made me curious.”

 

“So you just took over his body?” Sabrina questions. “His life?”

 

He looks at her a long moment, such that Sabrina is suddenly fearful she's offended him, but he turns toward the trees and sighs.

 

“I'm not a ghost, Sabrina.” He states. “I cannot command a mortal body on a whim, simply because I never was one. I need permission from my vessels. Forcing my way inside anyone yields... Unfortunate results. Edward Spellman was all too happy to welcome me. He thought it a great honor.”

 

“And my mother?”

 

He's quiet another long moment. Truth or a lie, Sabrina wonders.

 

“She was enchanting,” he offers softly. “Truly one of a kind. I couldn't help myself with her.”

 

He turns back to Sabrina.

 

“The coven was against it, as were his sisters. A witch and a mortal? All those silly little laws my followers make for themselves. But no one dared deny my will, even if they didn't realize why.”

 

Taking a step toward her, he reaches out to cup her cheek, a gesture that nearly brings tears to her eyes.

 

“You are not some kind of anti-christ,” he assures. “Born to bring on the apocalypse.”

 

He chuckles to himself.

 

“That, I have tried. And failed. Pointless endeavor, really. Existence just finds a way to circle back around again.”

 

Sabrina hugs him without asking, but he doesn't seem to mind.

 

“How could he die?” she asks. “If you-”

 

“A body is still a body,” he informs, arms going around her. “Not even my gifts can save one from the carnage of a plane crash. When it died, I simply returned to my throne.”

“And my Mom? Is she in-”

 

“No,” he assures quickly. “Where she went upon her demise, well, it wasn't with me.”

 

Sabrina accepts this, though still curious to her whereabouts, doesn't inquire further.

 

“What am I?” she repeats instead. “Really.”

 

“Proof,” he offers. “That good and evil are just words. That something bright can emerge from the dark.”

 

Sabrina feels a kiss pressed atop her head.

 

“That surprises still come long in the most remarkable of ways.”

 

/\

 

The entire coven gathers at Father Blackwood's estate to greet their newest arrivals. Twins. A girl and boy, born to him and Lady Constance. It strikes Sabrina as strange, that even witches dote on babies with the same care and affection mortals do. Even with a sad history of sacrifices and cannibalism. Or that Father Blackwood himself can be filled with pride as he holds them up, shouting hail Satan with outright glee.

 

Prudence quietly slips out from the room before Sabrina notices, and spends nearly half an hour looking for her when she does. Instead she finds Agatha and Dorcas hidden away in Blackwood's study, giggling uncontrollably as a bottle is passed between them.

 

“Cherry wine,” Agatha informs, offering it to Sabrina. “Stolen from a locked cabinet.”

 

Sabrina declines with a shake of her head. Dorcas then snatches it from Agatha's hand and takes a long pull.

 

“How many lashes is it?” she asks her sister. “For thieving?”

 

Agatha pries the bottle back from her hand.

 

“A dozen at least.”

 

Sabrina crosses her arms.

 

“You're drunk,” she states unnecessarily.

 

Dorcas rolls her eyes.

 

“On a single bottle?” she denies. “Hardly.”

 

“Really Sabrina,” Agatha interjects. “It's just dulling the pain.”

 

Sabrina's eyebrow quirks.

 

“That this entire ceremony,” Dorcas continues. “Is just another reminder we are merely orphans to this coven. We have nothing and no one.”

 

Sabrina steps in and intercepts the bottle being passed, taking a drink, a muffled sound escaping her throat with how sweet it is.

 

“That's not true,” she assures. “You have me.”

 

Agatha takes the bottle back.

 

“A lovely thing to say,” she argues. “But it doesn't mean we're wrong.”

 

“You have your Aunts,” Dorcas says. “A cousin. Prudence has had Blackwood in ways we never did, though Lucifer knows he'll deny her even more with these new little bundles of woe.”

 

Though she has no reason to, Sabrina feels disturbingly guilty for having the people in her life that she does. That it's no matter she's an orphan like them, because their circumstances are clearly not the same, and never will be.

 

Agatha gives the bottle to Dorcas again, who giggles some more, as the eager drink dribbles down her chin. Sabrina steps in without hesitation, wiping the wine away with her thumb, taking pride in the way Dorcas inhales sharply.

 

“I'm sorry,” she offers.

 

“Whatever for?”

 

Sabrina isn't sure how to answer that, thumb shifting up to brush across Dorcas' lips, wanting to take the ache and loneliness away from her. From both of them. So she leans forward and kisses Dorcas' wine stained mouth, then pulls back and turns to Agatha, who accepts hers as if she'd already been anticipating it.

 

Dorcas leans forward to cup Sabrina's face, pulling her away from Agatha, and kisses her so deeply Sabrina nearly forgets to breathe. Hardly has a chance to catch another breath, when Agatha does the same, until Sabrina finally gets control of herself and shifts back from both of their embrace.

 

“Oh my,” Agatha whispers, fingers touching her lips tenderly.

 

“Prudence will be furious,” Dorcas states quietly.

 

Sabrina's eyes flick between them.

 

“What for?”

 

They both smirk as if the answer should be obvious.

 

“Because-” Agatha beings.

 

“We got to taste you first,” Dorcas finishes.

 

/\

 

“Penny for your thoughts, cousin.”

 

Sabrina is sitting in the living room, staring blankly at the television, but hardly paying attention. It takes Ambrose snapping his fingers in front of her face, after she doesn't respond to him, to pull out of the trance.

 

“What?” she asks.

 

He takes a seat next to her on the couch, adjusting the plate of fruit in hand, offering it up to her. She shakes her head and he pulls it back, tossing a piece of melon in his mouth.

 

“Penny for your thoughts,” he repeats after chewing. “Though with how far gone you were, it might cost a bit more than that.”

 

She smiles weakly.

 

“Sorry. I was just thinking.”

 

He eats another piece of melon.

 

“Clearly,” he deadpans. “What about?”

 

Sabrina almost tells him to whole sordid incident. Kissing two girls at once. As if that's something she does now. How it began as a simple gesture of comfort, then quickly nosedived into one of lust. Looking back now, she can't deny how much she wanted it. Wanted them. The only thing missing was Prudence, which is in itself another can of worms yet to be opened.

 

“I might have,” she begins cautiously, sharing the briefest of eye contact, then looking away. “Really messed things up with the Sisters.”

 

Ambrose's only reaction to that is both eyebrows lifting up.

 

“Oh?” He questions. “How did you manage that?”

 

Sabrina bites her bottom lip, looking back to her cousin with worrisome eyes.

 

“I-”

 

He throws a hand up to stop her.

 

“It's okay,” he assures. “You're clearly uncomfortable giving the details, so I won't press. But I have to ask, is it fixable?”

 

“I don't know.”

 

“Well, have you spoken to any of them since whatever happened, happened?”

 

Sabrina shakes her head.

 

“Right,” Ambrose accepts, shifting to adjust his position. “Well, all of you have known each other since you were toddlers.” He points at the floor. “The four of you played on that very spot, for hours on end. Grew up together as the only members of a new generation of the coven. I find it hard to believe something could be so damaging as to erase such history. Really Sabrina, it couldn't have-”

 

“I kissed Agatha and Dorcas,” she interrupts.

 

A piece of fruit goes down the wrong pipe on the revelation, as he bats at his chest until it goes down, clearing his throat before setting the plate down and giving her his full attention.

 

“Both of them?” he asks.

 

Sabrina nods.

 

“Without Prudence.”

 

She nods again.

 

“Oh dear,” he comments, knowing full well the ramifications of leaving Prudence out of anything, let alone shared affection between Sabrina and her Sisters. “Forgive me, Cousin. But I believe you are right to worry.”

 

/\

 

Sabrina's eyes snap open, the sensation of the hairs on her neck rising, and she barely has time to turn her head before a weight settles atop the bed. Looking down to the edge of the mattress, she sees Prudence's face awash in moonlight coming in from the window, before beginning a slow crawl toward her like a lioness on the hunt.

 

“Prudence,” she whispers to no response, shifting to sit upright, halted halfway when the girl punctuates her presence by slamming each arm on the sides of Sabrina's head.

 

For a moment neither of them move, no sound in the room except for a nervous intake of breath, before Prudence sinks down to capture Sabrina's lips with her own. She doesn't hesitate to return the kiss, arms going around Prudence's neck, pulling down so that her weight settles comfortably atop her. It's exactly how Sabrina had imagined it would be like. Not soft and sweet, like any first kiss that some coming of age novel would tell you. Rather desperate, and ravenous, like two star crossed lovers finally giving in to carnal desire.

 

“W-wait,” Sabrina fumbles, trying to take a moment, but her mouth is quickly covered again. “Pru-”

 

Prudence does reply, pulling back from the kiss she takes Sabrina's bottom lip between her teeth for just a second, leaving her to hiss against the sting.

 

“You're not mad?” Sabrina questions.

 

Prudence's mouth curls into a snarl.

 

“I'm livid,” she states flatly. “Kissing my Sisters. Keeping it from me.”

 

“I wasn't-”

 

“Don't. Lie. To me.”

 

Sabrina lifts her head for one more kiss, before falling back into her pillow with a huff.

 

“I wasn't trying to keep it from you,” she insists. “I just... I didn't know how to tell you.”

 

Prudence trails a fingernail down Sabrina's cheek, pressing just enough to indent the skin.

 

“So you let my Sisters do it for you.”

 

“I didn't know they would-”

 

“Of course they would,” Prudence cuts her off. “We do not keep secrets from each other.”

 

Sabrina's eyes dip to Prudence's mouth, then back up.

 

“It was a moment.”

 

“A moment?”

 

“They were sad.”

 

“When are they not?”

 

Sabrina glares at the glib reply.

 

“They were upset,” she clarifies. “Father Blackwood's little ceremony reminded them that they have no one in this world but each other.”

 

“They have us.”

 

“Yes,” Sabrina agrees. “But we have what they don't. I have my Aunts. My cousin. You have-”

 

“I certainly do not have a father. Don't you dare say that.”

 

“Whatever your relationship with Blackwood, is still more than they had, or will ever have.”

 

One of Sabrina's hands lifts to Prudence's lips, fingers teasing along.

 

“I wanted to take their pain,” she goes on. “I wanted-”

 

“You got what you wanted, didn't you?”

 

Sabrina's gaze is focused on her fingers. Prudence's mouth.

 

“And what do you want from me? An apology? That anyone dared to do something without you?”

 

Prudence scoffs.

 

“It's a start.”

 

They're quiet a beat.

 

“I was looking for you,” Sabrina offers. “I couldn't find you. I found them. Something happened. I have nothing to apologize for.”

 

She thinks Prudence will snap for that answer, but is surprised when all she gets in reply is a slow smile.

 

“You're mine now,” Prudence announces, then reconsiders. “ _Ours_. Any objections?”

 

Sabrina kisses her again.

 

“No.”

 

Prudence mewls in pleasure, head dipping down to place a flurry of kisses along Sabrina's neck and shoulder.

 

“Anything else you're keeping from me?” she asks.

 

_I'm the Dark Lord's daughter._

 

“No,” Sabrina says, pulling Prudence back for more. “Nothing.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

“It's good to see you!” exclaims Roz, pulling Sabrina into a hug. Who is quickly followed by Susie, before they take seats at a booth in Cerberus. A round of coffee is ordered, and Roz wants all the details of life at her new school. People, places, classes. Everything.

 

Sabrina obliges as best she can, converting every magical subject she's currently studying, into some kind of mortal world counterpart. As far as people, she explains her grouping with the Sisters, and friendship with Nick. Also choosing to leave out the fact that she's currently dating those three girls, it's brought up regardless, when Susie comments on the turtleneck she's wearing. Agatha and Dorcas had gotten a little carried away with neck kisses, leaving her to look as if she was attacked by leeches.

 

Roz merely lifts a curious brow, when Sabrina is unable to keep the flush from her cheeks.

 

“You're seeing someone,” she states, throwing up a hand to dissuade the immediate denial she knows will come.

 

Sabrina reaches up the turtleneck, narrowing her eyes at Susie, who only grins in reply.

 

“You little sneak!” Roz accuses with a laugh. “I can't believe you tried to keep that quiet. What's their name? I want to know everything.”

 

Sabrina is trying to think of how to respond, when it feels as if the temperature has suddenly dropped twenty degrees, each of the girl's breath visible despite being indoors.

 

“Okay that's weird,” Susie comments, jaw suddenly chattering.

 

“Totally,” Roz agrees.

 

Sabrina is about to offer her own opinion, when she catches sight of an apparition passing the storefront window, the thing pausing to make eye contact with her upon realizing it's being watched.

 

“You guys stay here,” she says, rising from her seat and heading for the door.

 

Roz and Susie call after her, but don't get out of their own seats, as Sabrina bursts out of the door only to see the thing turn a corner and promptly disappear. Another takes its place just down the street, but as she starts heading toward it, also vanishes upon being noticed. It happens again, and again, and again until a final count of thirteen. A fresh sense of dread pools in her stomach. It can't be a coincidence, that number. A story told to all young witches in the Church of Night, to keep your secrets locked up tight should the townspeople find out about you, and hang you by the neck from the same tree where the Greendale thirteen met their end.

 

She glances back through the store window, Roz and Susie looking at her expectantly, and sighs before heading back inside.

 

“What was that?” Roz asks, when Sabrina approaches them again.

 

“Yeah,” Susie agrees. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”

 

Something on her friend's face is telling, that maybe seeing ghosts isn't reserved for only witches, as Sabrina tries to think of a reason why she has to leave. (Like right freaking now.)

 

“You guys head home,” she warns. “Something weird is, I mean, I think a storm might be coming.”

 

“A storm?” Roz questions. “What kind of-”

 

“Just go home,” Sabrina cuts her off. “Lock your doors. Be safe.”

 

She doesn't give them another chance to reply, heading for the door again, and nearly running all the way home.

 

/\

 

Her father's reflection in the mirror, scares the living daylights out of Sabrina as she walks into her room, jumping in the air as if avoiding a snake bite.

 

“Dad!” she exclaims at his visage. “I mean, jeez!”

 

Despite the tension in his eyes, a little smile pulls at his lips, delighted in the scare.

 

“I came to offer a warning,” he states.

 

“Does it have something to do with ghosts running rampant all over Greendale?” she cuts in before his warning can be issued.

 

“I know nothing about that,” he says. “But it seems that my second in command has caught wind of your existence.”

 

A chill runs down Sabrina's spine.

 

“And?”

 

“And she's a fickle being,” he informs. “Prone to jealousy. I would not be surprised if she has a hand in whatever is happening in your little town.”

 

Sabrina crosses her arms in front of the mirror.

 

“Can't you just reel her in or something?”

 

“I could,” he concedes. “If I knew of her whereabouts. Lilith can be a clever little thing when she wants to.”

 

Lilith? Sabrina thinks with a groan. Like, thee Lilith? First wife to Adam and all that?

 

Focus, she chides herself. There's other things to worry about at the moment.

 

“What do you know about the Greendale thirteen?” she asks.

 

He thinks a moment.

 

“Not much, I'm afraid. I know of the massacre, but not the details. You'd be better off asking your Aunts for help with that.”

 

“Help?”

 

“I assume you wish to stop whatever is happening?” he questions. “Lest their be another massacre to take note of?”

 

“I do,” Sabrina assures without thinking.

 

“Speak with your Aunts,” he repeats. “I will find Lilith.”

 

Sabrina nods, somewhat shocked that he would help in saving lives.

 

“Oh, and Sabrina? A vengeful ghost is not afraid of much, but there are some things.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“My wrath.”

 

She smirks at that.

 

“And hellfire.”

 

Sabrina's eyes widen, but think she understands, before nodding again.

 

“Thanks, Dad.”

 

He blows her a kiss before vanishing.

 

/\

 

Aunt Zelda and Hilda seem to already know something is amiss, protection candles lit in every window of the house, Ambrose walking around with chants of warding spells under his breath.

 

“Sabrina, there you are.” Aunt Zelda states on seeing her. “Thank Satan. Here, help your cousin with the wards, Hilda and I will finish-”

 

“Do you know what's happening?” Sabrina interrupts.

 

Zelda turns to her then, match in hand still lit.

 

“A dark presence descending on the town, impending doom and the like, so the quicker we-”

 

“It's the Greendale thirteen,” Sabrina cuts her off again.

 

Ambrose stops his chanting, looking to Sabrina, then to their Aunts.

 

“Bloody hell,” Hilda mumbles softly.

 

“You know this for a fact?” Zelda questions.

 

“Saw them wandering outside of Cerberus,” Sabrina informs. “I think they're going to do something terrible.”

 

Zelda smirks knowingly.

 

“Of course they are dear. Vengeful spirits rarely come back to the world for a spot of tea.”

 

“We have to stop them.”

  
Ambrose and Hilda exchange a look.

 

“I have to stop them,” Sabrina corrects.

 

Zelda regards her as if she hadn't heard right. Then, upon the realization she had, blows the match out.

 

“Really Sabrina,” she chides. “How do you intend to do that? You're a first year academy student. Even a witch the most powerful of magic, couldn't stand up to such numbers.”

 

“Hellfire.”

 

Everyone one of her family members jaws drop at the suggestion.

 

“You can't summon...” Zelda starts, then stops, unsure how to finish the sentence.

 

“Of course I can,” stated confidently, even though she feels anything but.

 

“How exactly,” Hilda interjects, raising her hand. “Did you learn to do that?”

 

Sabrina looks each one of them in the eye.

 

“I'm my father's daughter.”

 

/\

 

The Sisters are already waiting at the hanging tree, each one of them walking up to embrace her, and place kisses against each cheek and forehead.

 

“Thanks for coming,” she says to them.

 

Prudence gives her a look.

 

“Where else would we be?” she asks. “Cowering in the Church of Night with the rest of the coven?”

 

Sabrina grins at that, and would kiss her again, if the circumstances weren't so dire.

 

“We protect each other,” Agatha offers up.

 

“Always,” assures Dorcas.

 

Sabrina would kiss _all_ of them again, were there more time.

 

“What do you need us to do?” Prudence asks.

 

“Keep them off my back,” Sabrina answers. “If they try to stop me, once they realize what I'm about to do.”

 

Dorcas steps toward her.

 

“Can you really?” she questions. “Summon hellfire?”

 

“It would be remarkable,” Agatha agrees. “To see.”

 

Sabrina looks between them.

 

“Guess we'll find out,” she says.

 

Prudence approaches then, placing both hands on her shoulders.

 

“Either way,” she assures. “We're here for you.”

 

Sabrina does kiss her, soft and quick.

 

“Thank you.”

 

She walks toward the tree, lifting her hands as the chant falls from her lips, stopped dead in her tracks with the thirteen appear to block her. Sabrina wills herself not to step back, trying to summon the strength needed to bend them to her will.

 

“I order the Greendale Thirteen to stop! Go in peace, or face my wrath!”

 

The lead witch regards her snidely, stepping apart from her comrades.

 

“Who are you to order us?” she asks.

 

“My name is Sabrina-”

 

“The half witch?”

 

The thirteen laugh freely.

 

“We are not of this Earth, child. We cannot be hung again.”

 

Sabrina feels the Sisters behind her, ready to pounce at her defense, but keeps them back with a quick look over her shoulder.

 

“Not hung,” Sabrina agrees. “Burned.”

 

The thirteen laugh again.

 

“Burn us? No Earthly fire can burn us.”

 

“No,” Sabrina agrees again. “Not Earthly fire. Hellfire.”

 

The lead witch is not impressed.

 

“None but the most powerful can summon it. That is not you, child.”

 

Sabrina feels their ire, lets it fuel the power growing inside her.

 

“You think you know me?” she questions, feeling that power begin to spill out, the blue flames burning from within her palms.

 

The head witch takes notice, those flickering flames reflected in her widening eyes.

 

“I, Sabrina Spellman, daughter of the Dark Lord, Child of Night, call forth fire from the pit!”

 

The thirteen gasp, as the fire spreads to consume their bodies, moving to envelop the hanging tree as well. Their screams only over powered by Sabrina's recanting of the spell, voice bellowing with each line delivered.

 

 _Ater ignus, fusce fume._  
_Te evoco ut potentium tuam monstres._  
_Cupidibus flammis hic veni._  
_Caelo sub isto, harc arborem consumo._  
_Lucem tenebrasque tuas monstra._  
_Impetuum tuum evoco ad devorandum._  
_Hanc arborem ac omnes hospitas devora!_  
  
  
Sabrina call feel every one of their souls consumed by flame, as their bodies slowly burn to ash, all that hatred and anger released to float away with the autumn night air. It's like nothing she's ever felt before. The freedom. The power. It blazes through her body in such a different way than the thirteen. 

 

Her father had assured she wasn't some kind of anti-chirst, born to bring about the apocalypse. But causing such glorious destruction, she thinks that if the urge should ever come, she would be more than capable. 

 

The thought escapes her, as the flames slowly dissipate, falling to her knees from the energy expended. The Sisters are there in a heartbeat offering comforting hands along her back, Agatha and Dorcas taking hold of her arms, and slowly lifting her back to her feet. 

 

“That was,” begins Agatha. 

 

  
“Amazing,” Dorcas finishes. 

 

Once Sabrina is steady they embrace her fondly, Agatha tucking some hair behind her ear before commenting on how much lighter it appears, while Dorcas presses her forehead between Sabrina's neck and shoulder. Prudence stands in front of them, arms folded, as Sabrina offers a weak smile. 

 

“You called yourself the Daughter of the Dark Lord,” she says, unable to keep the edge from her tone. “Why would you do that?” 

 

Sabrina presses a kiss to Dorcas' cheek, turns her head and does the same for Agatha. 

 

“Because I am,” she answers, pulling herself from their embrace, and stepping toward Prudence. 

 

“How?” she asks. “Is that possible?” 

 

Sabrina takes Prudence's hands in hers, wondering if she can siphon away the envy radiating from her. 

 

“Edward Spellman was his vessel,” she explains. “And I was born of him. As is any child conceived through the Dark Lord's will.”

 

Sabrina lifts Prudence's hands to her lips, pressing a kiss atop each. 

 

“It doesn't change anything.” 

 

Prudence is incredulous. 

 

“It changes everything.” 

 

Sabrina looks up to her. 

 

“It doesn't change who I am. Who I choose to be.”

 

She looks back to Agatha and Dorcas. 

 

“Who I choose to be with.” 

 

She kisses Prudence sweetly. 

 

“We belong together. All of us.” 

 

She offers a hand back to Agatha and Dorcas, who approach and let themselves be encircled. 

 

“Don't you agree?” 

 

 /\

  
“You handled yourself quite well.” 

 

They're in Sabrina's favorite spot in the forest, heads tilted toward the sky, listening to sound of wind through the trees. 

 

“Thank you.” 

 

A fresh breeze comes through, reverberating through the branches, as she reaches over to take her father's hand. 

 

“Have you found Lilith?” she wonders. 

 

“No,” comes his answer. “So you might not want to let your guard down just yet.” 

 

“I won't,” she promises. 

 

He chuckles softly. 

 

“Don't worry too much,” he tries to assure. “If she dares touch a perfectly platinum hair on your head...”

 

He doesn't bother to finish the threat. 

 

“Love that look, by the way.” 

 

Sabrina smiles warmly. 

 

“I think I like it, too.” 

 

They're quiet another moment. 

 

“Has the big talk occurred?” he asks. “With your Aunts?” 

 

“No, it hasn't.” 

 

“Ah. Well, try not to be too hard on them. I'm sure they had their reasons.” 

 

“Reasons for lying to me my whole life?” 

 

He looks down to her with a grin. 

 

“I am the Father of lies, you know.” 

 

Sabrina rolls her eyes. 

 

“I know.” 

 

The talk is coming, she has no doubt about that, but is in no particular hurry to hash out all those tricky emotions just yet. Instead she looks forward to an eventful evening spent with her girls. 

 

“Well,” he starts, looking at his wrist even though there's no watch strapped to it. “I'm afraid I must be off. Hell and damnation can hardly run itself.” 

 

He pulls her into a hug. 

 

“Until next we meet.” 

 

Sabrina sighs against him. 

 

“Bye, Dad.”

 

“Goodbye, darling.” 

 

He's gone when her eyes open, as she takes one last glance toward the top of the trees, before heading back down the path toward home.   
 

 


End file.
